"Your muscles haven't softened enough if you don't have the time," he said simply and softly. He had not been told that he couldn't speak to the other weapon and right now didn't seem like it would change with all that was going on around them. He had seen the less lucid movements, and their fight had been quick off the start, forcing a strain on the body that was compounded with the deicing. "They will blame you, but the error is theirs. The team assigned to prepare me was speaking on it."
When they weren't ordered or pulled apart, he settled into the current stance for the time that they were allowed to remain together. They were, of course, watched closely as if they might malfunction at any time when in one another's presence in such a way, but he remained calm, docile and stoic as he supported the other weapon's weight while they stood waiting for the surgery to be prepped. There was a part of him, small and greedy, that didn't want to ever let go, that didn't want the warmth that bled into his side to ever stop. He focused on that, searching out an answer internally.
And then it was time to move. He bowed his head a little as if receiving some kind of honour in being allowed this opportunity, but his arm tightened as he helped the other weapon along out of the combat grounds. It was slow going because he made it so, taking his time but making it appear as if they were putting every effort into these motions all so that he could hold the other man longer against his side, and no one felt the need to hurry them along. If anything, more people stopped to watch their progress.
His flesh fingers subtly massaged the other weapon's side as they made down the hallways that they were directed to. He took the weapon inside all the way to the table and eased the blond down carefully to it. He lingered holding the other perhaps a bit longer than necessary but the hard lines around his eyes smoothed as he attempted a smile for the other, even if his half-mask covered most of it.
no subject
When they weren't ordered or pulled apart, he settled into the current stance for the time that they were allowed to remain together. They were, of course, watched closely as if they might malfunction at any time when in one another's presence in such a way, but he remained calm, docile and stoic as he supported the other weapon's weight while they stood waiting for the surgery to be prepped. There was a part of him, small and greedy, that didn't want to ever let go, that didn't want the warmth that bled into his side to ever stop. He focused on that, searching out an answer internally.
And then it was time to move. He bowed his head a little as if receiving some kind of honour in being allowed this opportunity, but his arm tightened as he helped the other weapon along out of the combat grounds. It was slow going because he made it so, taking his time but making it appear as if they were putting every effort into these motions all so that he could hold the other man longer against his side, and no one felt the need to hurry them along. If anything, more people stopped to watch their progress.
His flesh fingers subtly massaged the other weapon's side as they made down the hallways that they were directed to. He took the weapon inside all the way to the table and eased the blond down carefully to it. He lingered holding the other perhaps a bit longer than necessary but the hard lines around his eyes smoothed as he attempted a smile for the other, even if his half-mask covered most of it.